Shine
by starbuckmeggie
Summary: A little Post Series experiment.
1. Chapter 1

I gently stroke Jack's soft hair as Erica bangs a teething ring on the edge of her stroller, babbling happily. "She's chatty today," Chandler notes, sipping his coffee.

I shrug as I blow on my tea, trying to get it down to a decent temperature. "There's a lot going on around her right now. Obviously, she feels that we need a play-by-play."

"Hmm," is all he says, studying our daughter intently. "It's interesting that what she's saying right now makes more sense than the people reporting the actual news." Erica grins up at him, knowing that he's talking about her, the few teeth she has flashing brightly, and Chandler smiles back. "I know," he says to her. "My little girl is a genius."

She giggles at him and my heart feels like it could burst. Jack sighs, his head against my shoulder, his sweet baby smell intoxicating. I rub his back slowly, hoping he'll go down for a nap soon. All the people milling about interest him, but he usually likes to sleep better than almost anything.

I look across the table and smile at my husband, who just grins and winks at me, smug. He's always smug lately, most likely because I'm frequently lamenting about how much I love him and our life and that I'm over-the-moon happy. He seems pretty proud of himself about that one.

Overall, I can't blame him.

All of a sudden, the sweet baby smell is gone, replaced by a much fouler odor my son has proven more than capable of producing. My nose wrinkles inadvertently as I lift him away from me ever so slightly. "Your son has done something," I inform Chandler.

"It's fascinating how when they're all cute and cuddly, they're your kids, but as soon as gross bodily fluids are involved, they're mine."

"You're right—it _is_ fascinating. Can't imagine why that would be," I tease. Jack giggles and I roll my eyes; like his father, he is endlessly amused by bodily functions. I go to stand up, ready to take Jack for his latest changing, when Chandler waves me away, already on his feet, taking the baby out of my arms.

"I've got him. Just hang out here and relax."

"You sure?"

He bends down and gives me a quick kiss. "Of course I'm sure." He tosses the diaper bag over one shoulder, then takes hold of the stroller with his free hand, placing his coffee cup in the holder attached to the handle. At my look, he says, "No sense taking one and not the other. They'll just make us run back and forth if we don't."

I smile as he walks off across the store, occasionally accosted by well-meaning people, usually women, fascinated by the twins. Part of me hates that I'm one of those people that's happy all the time, that there's always a smile on my face. But I can't help it—my life is absolutely wonderful.

I take in my surroundings for a moment and shake my head—Barnes & Noble. It's like Chandler and I have been domesticated by suburbia. Less than a year ago, we never would have thought about going to a big chain bookstore like this. Why would we, when New York has dozens of little bookstores everywhere you go? But after moving to Westchester and becoming parents, life inevitably changed. This is much closer than driving in to the city, and much more manageable with two babies.

I sigh and pull my book out of my purse, taking advantage of the temporary solitude. I don't get to do this as much as I used to. Though honestly, if given the choice between spending time with family or having time alone to read…I'll choose my family.

Doesn't mean I won't take a few minutes to myself when given the chance. And knowing the twins, Chandler could be gone for another fifteen, twenty minutes.

I sip my tea as I read, blissfully unaware of the world around me, the people chattering around me fading away.

"Monica?"

I blink slowly, still staring at my book, trying to get my brain to switch gears to the real world, when I hear my name again.

"Monica?"

I manage to lift my head this time, blinking my eyes rapidly to focus. "Richard?"

There he is before me, looking larger than life as he stands over me, smiling. "How are you?"

For a moment, I'm at a loss—of all the places he could be in the world, it's here. What are the odds?

Finally, I pull myself together. "I'm good. How are you?"

"Oh, not bad." He gestures to the chair across from me, asking for permission to sit. I give a little half shrug and suddenly he's right in front of me, still smiling.

"What brings you out here?" he asks.

"I live out here now."

"Really? In Westchester?"

"Is it really that hard to believe?"

"A little," he confesses. "I figured there was no way you'd ever leave Manhattan." I shrug a little, not really sure how to respond to that. I suppose there was a time in my life when I thought I'd live there forever, but that was a long time ago. Chandler and I talked about a place of our own for years before finally moving. "Your dad never mentioned it."

"I didn't know you two had spent any time together lately."

He looks thoughtful for a moment. "Yeah, I guess it's been a while. How long have you been out here?"

"A year in April." The conversation lulls for a moment before I take pity on him. "What're you up to now?"

"Well, I'm halfway retired; my son mostly runs things now. He finally got married, by the way, and has two little boys. I'm travelling a lot, going places and countries I've never been to before…"

I feel myself drift off as he talks, truly amazed at how little his life interests me. It's not that I despise him; he's just not a factor in my life. He really hasn't been for a long time; I'm so far removed from the person who was in love with this guy that it almost feels like it was a whole separate person.

"So what brought you out to the suburbs?" he asks, pulling me out of my reverie.

"Oh! Chandler and I—"

"Oh, you and Chandler, huh?" he interrupts.

"Yeah; you knew that we were dating."

"Sure, sure. I guess I didn't realize that you'd made it official."

I smile, my shoulders going up to my ears in a happy shrug. "Actually, we got engaged just after I last you."

"Has it been that long? When did you get married?"

"Four years in May."

He smiles at me softly. "Congratulations."

There's a look in his eyes that I can't quite identify—or rather, I'm not sure that I _want_ to identify. I clear my throat and shift uncomfortably. "So, what about you? Are you seeing anyone? Have you gotten married again?"

He shrugs, leaning on the table between us. "Most people only get one great love in their life; I was lucky enough to have it twice. Asking for lightning to strike a third time would be a bit much, don't you think?"

I feel a tiny knot in my stomach form; it's not possible that he's still hung up on me, is it? Is that why he's looking at me that way?

I can't help but pity him a little; it's been almost a decade since we dated, and when it comes down to it, we weren't even together that long. I find it hard to believe that he would carry a torch for me for this long, but I suppose it's possible. After all, this is the man who decided, four years after we broke up and after I'd been with Chandler for two years, to come to me at work and tell me that he wanted a future with me.

My nose crinkles for a second—I'd almost forgotten about that. I guess it was meant to be some big, romantic gesture, but in hindsight, it was pretty arrogant to assume he could swoop in with a declaration of love and that I would fall in to his arms.

I just wish I wasn't getting the feeling that he's considering the same thing right now.

"Well, you never know," I say, fiddling with my cup of tea. "The right girl could be waiting for you around the corner."

Richard smiles fondly, leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "I think I might be too old to be looking for a girl."

"So maybe 'girl' isn't the right word; does 'dried-up spinster' sound better?" I mentally roll my eyes—I swear that comment went directly from Chandler's brain to my mouth.

He chuckles, his eyes taking me in. "You look good, Monica. Happy."

I can't help but grin, my thumb subconsciously going to rub my wedding bands, something I've noticed that I do when talking about my husband. "I _am _happy. Stupidly happy."

"Good for you. You deserve it," he tells me softly.

I swallow hard, trying to think of a way out of this awkward conversation when I see Chandler walking toward me, this time with Jack in the stroller and Erica on his hip. I can feel my entire being light up at the sight of them. He cocks an eyebrow at me and gestures to the back of Richard's head, curious as to who's with me.

"There are a couple of people I want you to meet," I say as I stand, moving over to my family. I place my hand near his on the stroller, a couple of my fingers resting on his, his own fingers playfully grabbing back and lean in to kiss Erica's head. I see Richard turn and, to Chandler's credit, there's only a slight muscle twitch in his cheek.

"Hey, Richard," he says, annoyance tingeing his voice. "What brings you here?"

"I was in the area, visiting family."

"And you wound up _here_." It's a statement more than a question; I slide my hand to his back, rubbing his shoulder blade gently.

"Small world, isn't it?" I swear I can hear just the slightest edge to Richard's voice.

I give the back of Chandler's shirt a little tug, hoping he'll keep still. Fortunately, Erica picks that moment to start chattering, making the two of us grin at her. "Richard, I want you to meet our twins—this is Erica, and that," I point down to my sleeping baby, pacifier and drool falling out of his mouth, "is Jack."

The smile Richard gives us is genuine as he extends a finger to my daughter, who grabs it enthusiastically. "Nice to meet you," he tells her as she grins.

"Careful," Chandler warns. "She's teething right now and will chew on anything. That finger is fair game."

Before he can respond, Erica has the finger stuffed in her mouth and I see her bite down hard. Richard winces, but manages to gently extract his hand. She lets out an indignant squawk, but Chandler deftly hands her a teething ring. "I've told you, sweet girl—people aren't food." She ignores him, chomping away happily.

"They're beautiful," Richard tells us, his hand reaching out again to stroke Erica's foot.

"I know," I answer, cocky because my children are completely beautiful.

"How old are they?"

"Nine months about a week ago. It's going by so fast."

"It really does." He looks at the twins carefully, and I can practically see the gears turning in his head. "I don't want to alarm you," he says slowly, "but they look nothing like either of you."

Chandler bursts out laughing. "That's probably because they're adopted."

"Oh! I just thought you wanted to…" his voice trails off, probably not sure where to go with that.

I just shrug. "We had a little trouble conceiving, so we adopted. They needed us, we needed them, so it worked out perfectly." I squat down next to Jack, fixing his pacifier, and realize Richard is shifting awkwardly from foot to foot, and I take pity on him, knowing that fertility issues can be a tricky subject. "It's okay. We're really very happy with the way things have turned out."

"I guess that would explain why you guys moved out here."

"Yeah," Chandler answers, smiling down at my happily. I stand up and lose my balance, grabbing on to his arm for support, instantly alarming him. "You okay?"

"Don't worry so much; I just stood up too fast. It happens."

"Excuse me for caring."

I give his arm a little nudge and notice Richard looking at us curiously. I look at Chandler expectantly, who rolls his eyes at me playfully. "Go ahead."

"What?" Richard asks. "Everything okay?"

"We haven't really told a whole lot of people yet," I tell him, unable to keep the grin off my face, "but I'm pregnant." I can feel Chandler bouncing with excitement next to me.

Richard looks pretty stunned. "I thought you just said you couldn't…"

"Not that we couldn't, just that we've had trouble with it. But we stopped thinking about it and here I am, all knocked up."

"Nice talk, honey," Chandler teases.

"Like you weren't the one to say it first."

"I guess congratulations are in order," Richard says, smiling at me, that odd look in his eye again. "That's terrific; I'm so happy for you. How far along are you?"

"About four and a half months," I answer, my hand immediately smoothing over my ever-so-slightly protruding stomach, a habit I've developed lately, probably to reassure myself that it's true. Chandler's taken to keeping his hand there, too, whenever possible.

Chandler shifts Erica from one hip to the other, putting his free arm around my shoulders, kissing my temple. "We're pretty excited."

That might be the biggest understatement ever uttered. Silence grows between the three of us for a few moments, Richard looking increasingly uncomfortable, until Erica flings her teething ring to the ground defiantly. Richard stoops to retrieve it, handing it to Chandler on the way up, who in turn wipes it off on his pants before handing it back to her.

"Well, I should get going," Richard says suddenly. "It was good to see you guys. And congratulations about everything." He gives Erica a little wave, then turns abruptly, walking away from us quickly.

"You okay?" I ask Chandler as Richard's head disappears into the crowd.

"Yeah," he scoffs. "But he's not. He's still totally in love with you."

"Yeah, I kinda got that vibe, too." I reach for Erica, who holds her arms out to me. She immediately lays her head on my shoulder and I rub her back. "Yeah, I thought you might be tired."

"So, he just showed up?"

I shrug, my body automatically swaying to help soothe my daughter. "I heard someone say my name and there he was. He sat down and chatted for a few minutes and it was mostly awkward and…weird."

"Gotta kind of feel bad for the guy, you know? All these years and he's still hung up on you; it's a little sad."

I look at Chandler suspiciously. "Where is this guy coming from? Where's the one who usually gets all crazy any time Richard's name is mentioned?"

"Considering we have two babies and one on the way, I don't feel the need to be jealous or insecure. I'm getting my happily ever after; life is pretty good."

I smile and crook my finger at him, grabbing his shirt when he gets close enough, capturing his lips in mine. "I love you."

"Easy there, Mon, or we'll wind up working on number four before number three has even hatched." I feel his hand gently, almost reverently, stroking my stomach and press my forehead against his. "Mind if I go grab another cup of over-priced coffee?"

"Not at all. Is she out?" I ask, releasing his shirt.

He peeks at our daughter and smiles. "Like a light. I don't know how you do that."

"It's a gift. I specialize in comfort food and comfort boobs."

"I'll second that." He gives me a quick kiss. "You want another tea or something?"

I wrinkle my nose in distaste. "I think I'm pretty much tea'd out. Coffee?" Caffeine deprivation has been the only downside to pregnancy, especially since I used to drink coffee all the time.

"Decaf?" he asks me, eyebrow raised.

"Fine."

"Be good," he tells me, walking over to the counter to get our drinks. I sit down carefully, trying not jostle Erica too much. I rest my foot against the stroller, pushing Jack back and forth gently, and watch Chandler say something to the kid at the counter, making him laugh.

Yeah. This life is pretty good.

*A/N….chalk this up to another experiment. This sort of came to me for no reason while at work but wouldn't leave me alone. So, presto. Also, I should note that I don't hate Richard; in a pre-Mondler world, I thought they were a cute couple. True; he shouldn't have basically offered Monica marriage and babies when he knew about Chandler, but still…don't hate the guy.

So…thoughts?


	2. Chapter 2

Just when I think I'm over her, I see her again, and all those feelings come flooding back.

Sometimes, I go years without seeing her, and I won't give her a whole lot of thought for a while, and then…there she is.

Like today.

I'm minding my own business, having a lovely afternoon with my family, and she appears before me. Like a vision. She just looks better as she gets older, too.

The one that got away.

The one I _let_ get away.

Monica Geller.

Well, I guess she's Monica Bing now.

Technically, she's been Monica Bing for years. At least six. It's hard to keep track, especially when you don't want to.

Who would have ever thought that Jack Geller's daughter would be the one woman that I'd never be able to stop thinking about?

It's weird how life turns out sometimes. I never should have fallen in love with someone that much younger than me, but it's not as if you can control your heart.

I really would have thought I'd have moved on by now. I saw her a couple of years ago—she and Chandler had twins and another one on the way. She looked happier than I had ever seen her, too. Motherhood really suits her.

That should have been that. She's married, she has kids…she has the life she always wanted, the life I didn't want to give her. That should be enough for me to be able to let her go.

And, really, if I had never seen her again, I could have done it. Maybe that's not entirely letting someone go, but I suppose it's the best I can do.

But I think it's safe to say that she's the love of my life.

I never saw that one coming, either.

I also never expected to run into her out in the middle of nowhere. Aside from knowing that she and her family live in Westchester, I had no other information. I haven't _wanted _more information. Westchester County is a big place; what are the odds that I'd run into the _Bings_ in Sleepy Hollow of all places?

It _is_ fall, though, and this is a popular area for kids and families near Halloween. I can't judge because I'm out here with my son and grandkids. Even if she doesn't live in this town, it stands to reason that she'd bring her own children out here.

I must look like some creepy old man, staring at her this way. I can't help it, though—it's simply fascinating watching her play with her kids, pushing them on the swings, catching them at the bottom of the slide, chasing them through the jungle gym.

She really was born for this.

All of this could have been mine, too, if I hadn't been such an idiot. I should have just started over with her. All she wanted from me was a family. I could have given that to her. I _should_ have given that to her.

Two little boys drag her over to the merry-go-round, jumping up and down as she pretends to think it over, and I wonder for a moment where Chandler could be, or why her daughter's not around. I scan the park—it only takes a second to find him standing just a few yards away from them, a little blonde girl in his arms, her head against his shoulder as he gently sways her back and forth.

Monica sits down on the merry-go-round and her boys—I know the older one, the one with the light hair, is named Jack, though I can't remember her daughter's name at all—try to push her. They grab onto the bars and push and pull; Monica sits back innocently, laughing when they stand in front of her, sulking. She leans forward and says something to them; a moment later, their faces light up and I can hear their little voices yelling, "Daddy! Daddy!"

I can't help that my stomach twists a little at that—those could be _my_ kids.

Instead, they're _his_.

I shake my head at myself, watching Chandler make his way over to his family. It's really not fair of me to think these sorts of things about him. He's a good guy—it's not as if he stole Monica from me. From what Jack and Judy told me some time ago, he and Monica didn't start dating until a few years after she broke up with me.

Chandler was right when he said that I'd had my chance and I blew it. He was exactly right. Those words have haunted me for years.

I'll hand it to him, though—he got her, and he never let her go. He married her and gave her a family, and I truly don't think I've ever seen happier people in my entire life.

Part of me wonders if Monica and I would have been as happy if I had been the one to give this to her. As much as it irks me to even think it, maybe Chandler is the guy she really is supposed to be with.

He reaches out one hand, grabbing the bar, and the little boys scramble onto the ride with their mother, the smaller one settling into her lap, Jack pressing himself against Monica's side. He says something to the little girl, and she shakes her head, burrowing her face into her father's neck. He gives the merry-go-round a gentle push, and I can hear the boys giggling across the park. A few moments later, the little girl is trying to wiggle out of Chandler's arms—Erica! That's her name—so he pulls the ride to a stop, depositing her next to her siblings. Monica says something, and the twins hold onto her, and Chandler starts pushing them again. Their laughter echoes across the park, mingling with the other families milling about.

Part of me is seriously considering going up to them and saying hello, under the guise of being polite but ultimately just being nosy.

It's not the best idea I've had—Tim'll be back with his kids soon, and I'm positive he wouldn't thrill to see me talking to Monica.

I sigh and stand up from my spot on the bench. I'll just go meet them by the bathrooms; that way we can just head out sooner and I get as far away from Monica Gel—_Bing_ as I can.

I'm just about to make a clean getaway when, like something out of a TV show, a group of kids come barreling at me, and I jump out of the way to avoid them. In the process, I bump into a trashcan—I save the contents from spilling all over the place, but it makes a hell of a commotion in the process.

A commotion that draws Monica and Chandler's attention to me.

Naturally.

I see the merry-go-round slow down as the two of them give me twin looks of shock, both obviously surprised to see me there. I shrug sheepishly and head over to them, unable to avoid them now.

I shove my hands in my pockets as I greet them, feeling more than uncomfortable. "Hey there."

"Hi," Monica says as she stands, looking back at her husband, confused. "What are..."

Up close, she's even more stunning—her dark hair falls in waves past her shoulders, her blue eyes are bright, crinkled at edges with happiness, and the faint lines starting to appear around her mouth are only there from smiling all the time. "What am I doing here? I'm out here with Tim and the kids, taking in the fall atmosphere. You?" Mentally, I smack my forehead—I know what they're doing out here. I usually have no trouble talking to women, or people in general, but with Monica I've always felt a bit tongue-tied and awkward.

"We live not too far from here, actually," she tells me, her kids coming to stand next to her, the littlest one hugging her leg, Jack holding her hand. Erica leans against Chandler as he moves to stand with his family, and though I'm sure it's not an intentional marking of territory, the message is the same. "The kids love coming out here to see the fall decorations, but mostly this park is the best one in the county."

"Mommy." Monica looks down at her littlest one, who's holding his arms out to her. "Mommy up."

Without hesitating, she grabs him under his armpits and hoists him onto her hip, smoothing down his hair as she smiles at him, and just for a second, the light from the afternoon sun bounces off her engagement ring, hitting me in the eyes, and it feels like a punch in the gut. "You…met the twins, right? A while back?" The way she asks, I can tell she's not putting on a show. Seeing me in that bookstore a couple of years ago was barely a blip on her radar at that point.

That hurts more than it should.

"I did," I answer. "But they were very small. And you were barely pregnant."

She and Chandler exchange a quick glance, communicating something before turning back to me. "Well, in case you forgot. This is Jack." She looks down at the little boy holding onto her shirt and I follow her gaze—he turns his head when he sees me looking at him, burying his face in her leg. "And that's Erica." I look over at the little girl who's now standing in front of Chandler, her father's hands on her shoulders—she doesn't shy away from my gaze at all. She may be adopted, but there's no doubting she's Monica's child—all guts, brave, and bold as brass.

"Hi," I greet them.

"Hi," Erica answers, staring me down. It's almost unnerving.

"Sweetie, this is Dr. Burke," Chandler says, giving her shoulders a little squeeze. "Can you shake his hand?"

She holds her out her, and I give it a little shake. "Nice to meet you," I tell her.

She looks up at her father, and he just smiles down at her. "Say, 'you, too'."

"You, too," she parrots, dropping my hand.

"Jack," Monica says, dropping a hand down to rest on her son's head. "Can you say 'hi' to Dr. Burke?"

Jack tilts his head back and Monica lifts an eyebrow at him, cocking her head to one side. He finally looks over to me and says, "Hi."

"He's not great with new people," Monica explains, shifting the child on her hip a little. "This is the one I was pregnant with last time I saw you. This is William."

Erica giggles. "That's not his name, Mommy."

Chandler places a finger over her lips, making her giggle even more. I look at them in confusion. "Just…" Chandler starts, shaking his head. "They couldn't pronounce 'William' when they were smaller, and now they refuse to call him that. But that _is_ his name."

William stares at me, worrying his lower lip with his teeth, looking so much like Monica at that moment, it's eerie. I smile at him, reaching out to gently poke his side. "He looks…"

"I know," Chandler answers. "He looked like me when he was born, but right now he sort of looks like a bunch of different people."

"It works for him," I answer honestly—he's a very cute little kid. They all are, actually. "I'm sorry, but how old are they now?"

"Jack and Erica are three and a half," Chandler starts.

"And William is two years and three months," Monica finishes.

I can't help but wince. "Terrible twos?"

Chandler lets out a very deep sigh. "Like you wouldn't believe. We _just_ finished with the twins and then, like clockwork…"

"That's rough," I answer. "At least I had a couple of years in between Timothy and Michelle."

"Well, we're hoping that he'll follow the example his big brother and sister are setting and take it down a few notches," Monica answers. "Anyway, what are you doing out here?"

"Oh—I'm here with Tim and his kids. They like to come here in the fall, so…" My voice trails off as I realize I actually have nothing else to bring to the conversation. Up close, this family is even happier than I thought they were. They just look so content together. Jack and Erica definitely look like twins, and definitely look nothing like Chandler and Monica; they both have the same big, brown eyes, and the same soft, curly baby hair that they'll probably, unfortunately, grow out of in another year or so. Erica's hair is pale blonde, and Jack's is more golden, but there's no denying they're related. Despite all that, though, there are so many subtle little things that make it obvious that they belong to these two people—Erica's personality, the way Jack stands…nurture won out with these two.

William truly does look like a mix of people—I can see a bit of Jack and Judy in him, as well as Monica and Chandler, and probably Chandler's parents, too. His hair is light enough brown that he blends in with his siblings. But his eyes—the color, the shape—those are all Chandler. And right now, they're both giving me the same quizzical look. "Anyway," I say, shoving my hands back in my pockets. "They're probably wondering where I am, so…"

Monica smiles at me gently, almost sympathetically. "Good to see you, Richard."

Chandler holds out his hand to me. "Yeah. Good to see you."

I only get to shake it briefly before Erica jumps on his arm; Chandler laughs in surprise for a second before her grabs her around the middle, flipping her upside down. "Monkey." He tickles her sides and she laughs hysterically.

"Daddy, stop!" she squeals, her little hands reaching out for him, trying to tickle him back.

Jack starts tugging Monica back to the merry-go-round, practically dancing with excitement. "Come on, Mommy!"

Monica looks over her shoulder at me for a second, calling out a bright, "Bye!" before allowing her oldest son to drag her back to the ride. Chandler doesn't even spare me a backward glance as he carries his giggling daughter over to join her brothers. In another moment, they're all playing together again, Chandler riding with the kids this time as Monica pushes them all, her kids laughing at her as she pretends they're all too heavy for her.

I walk away slowly, still fascinated. Once again, though, this moment will barely be worth remembering to her. In all likelihood, they've already forgotten about me; instead, they're focused on their day together. At best, they'll remember to talk about running into me while lying in bed tonight.

I shudder and pick up my pace a bit, suddenly very eager to find my son and grandchildren. Thinking about Monica in bed with someone else, even if it's innocent, is not a place my mind wants to go.

I see Tim up ahead, the kids waiting in line at the water fountain, and I take one more glance back at the Bing family. The merry-go-round is stopped, Monica's hands braced on the bars on either side of Chandler and her kids, her face close to his, both of them grinning. Before I can turn away, I see his hands go up to her waist, his fingers hooking through her belt loops, their lips meeting tenderly. The kids giggle and say, "Ewwww!" and I force myself to turn away, wincing.

I feel like I have to get over Monica all over again.

*A/N…As I've said before; I don't hate Richard, but for some reason, I needed to have him run into Mondler again. That idea actually popped into my head while writing one of the most of recent chapters of TCL, but I couldn't figure out a logical way to get him into the same hospital as Monica. Apparently, my psyche wouldn't let it go, though, because here it is. Who knows? Maybe they'll bump into Richard from time to time, just for fun.


	3. Chapter 3

I look up from my watch just in time to see someone's chest barreling at me, knocking into me before I can react. I manage to remain on my feet but my bag goes flying, makeup and other various accessories going everywhere. The guy barely glances at me as he keeps going, completely unconcerned with the world around him.

"No, that's okay. I've got it," I call after him as I bend down to retrieve my stuff, sighing in frustration. New York—what a town. Possibly the only city in the world where it's perfectly acceptable to knock someone to the ground then step on their hand as you walk over them.

Still…I wouldn't want to live anywhere else.

I scramble to pick up my belongings, hoping to get as many back into my possession as I can before everything is trampled, when I notice a hand stretched out in front of me, holding out mascara and lipstick. "Thank you so much," I say, feeling my faith in humanity restored just a little.

"No problem." The voice sounds vaguely familiar, but everyone in this town feels vaguely familiar. When you see so many people every day, it's impossible to tell who you've run into before, or who just looks like someone you once met.

All of a sudden, a pair of tiny feet are in front of me, an even tinier hand outstretched, holding out my pen. It might be the cutest thing ever, and I smile broadly as I pick up the last few items; I hear what I assume is the father say, "Good job, buddy. That was very nice."

"Yes, it was," I agree, finally looking up at the small person in front of me. "Thank you very—" My voice dies in my throat. The little boy standing in front of me completely captivating; big, bright blue eyes, light brown, almost dark blonde hair, round cheeks, and the sweetest little smile. But he looks almost exactly like my old boyfriend, Chandler Bing. I give myself a little shake and finish my sentence. "Much." I turn to look at the man, ready to compliment his child and gasp.

This little kid looks like Chandler because his father _is_ Chandler.

What are the odds?

Chandler looks _good_, too. His hair is little lighter, tiny flecks of white and gray popping up here and there, a couple of tiny lines are starting to form around his mouth and eyes, but it's the same Chandler I knew years ago, though now he's sexier than hell.

With a little kid.

He hasn't even noticed me yet because he's smiling at his little boy, pride on his face at the child's good manners. "Chandler?" I finally say, and his forehead crinkles as he turns to look at me.

"Yeah?"

"Hi," I say softly, and he looks at me blankly for a few moments.

Not gonna lie; it stings a little. Granted, it was close to ten years ago that I dated this man, and his roommate, but my ego feels just a little wounded when he doesn't recognize me.

Slowly, recognition dawns over his face and his mouth drops open in surprise. "Kathy?"

"Yeah!" I say brightly, genuinely happy to see him.

"Oh, my God," he says, standing slowly, pulling the little boy up with him. "How long has it been?"

"Only about a million years. How are you?"

"I'm great." He is; I can tell. Happiness is just radiating off of him. "How are you?"

"Not bad," I answer.

"You still acting?"

"I am. It's rough sometimes but I keep hanging in there. Hey, I saw Joey's last movie—it was pretty good. Seems like he's doing all right for himself."

Chandler grins with pride, and it's good to know that they're still friends after all these years. "Yeah, Mr. Jet Setter Movie Star. He still lives out here, though; his head hasn't gotten _too_ big, yet."

I chuckle a little—I have a hard time picturing Joey Tribbiani with an ego at all, at least in that respect. He was always such a sweet guy, a little ditzy at times, but always very humble in regards to his acting. I feel happy that someone I know has managed to be successful.

"It's good to see that you're still here, too," I tell him sincerely. Despite the way we ended, I never wished him any ill will, but he looks a little sheepish.

"Actually, I live out in Westchester now."

"Wow. Really?"

He shrugs, his feet shuffling a bit, and he looks just like he did all those years ago, all bashful and cute. "Yeah, I've been domesticated. And by domesticated, I mean that I was chomping at the bit to buy a house and move in with my family. I'm almost sorry to say that I don't really even miss living in the city anymore. Suburbia is great."

The little boy wiggles and Chandler shifts him under one arm so that he's now being held like a football. He giggles, craning his head up at Chandler. "Daddy."

"Oh, excuse me," he says to the child. "Kathy, this is William. William, can you say 'hi'?"

He looks at me with big, serious eyes. "Liam."

Chandler rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "Your name is William."

He cranes his neck up, looking at his father. "Liam."

"Just…say 'hi' to the nice lady, will you?"

William looks at me again, smiling sweetly, and I'm struck by how familiar he looks, but it's not because of Chandler. I just don't know what it is. "Hi."

"Hi," I answer, almost overcome with just how lovely he is. "He's so beautiful."

"He's all right," Chandler answers, wiggling the boy in his arms, tickling his sides.

"How old is he?"

"How old are you, William?"

He holds up a pudgy little finger at me, still smiling broadly. "Wow," I say. "A whole year. That's a lot."

William ducks his head bashfully and Chandler says, "Actually, he's about a year and a half."

"He sounds older." I reach my hand out to him, palm up, and he slaps it, eyes twinkling.

"That's because he's trying his hardest to keep up with his big brother and sister."

I think my mouth actually drops open—Chandler has three kids? I don't know why that seems so shocking, but I guess I'm trying to reconcile the sweet, nervous guy I dated for a few months with the obvious family man standing before me. Not that the two of us ever talked about having kids, but just the mention of them usually made him anxious. I realize a lot can change in nine years, but I guess he found the woman who made him want to be a father.

I feel an old twinge of sadness despite myself. I really treated him very badly back then. He was such a great guy to me, despite the accusations of infidelity which, unfortunately for him, were all too true. I was young and stupid and Chandler's affection toward me was incredibly intense; instead of talking to him, allaying his fears and letting him know I wouldn't sleep with someone else, I…went and slept with someone else.

It was such a stupid move on my part that I'm _still_ kicking myself. I don't know that Chandler and I would have worked in the long run—maybe yes, maybe no. We weren't together long enough to find out, but he certainly deserved better than what I did to him.

"You…you have two more?"

"Yeah; the Wonder Twins."

I can't help but smile at that. "As in 'Wonder Twin powers activate'?"

"_Exactly_ like that. They have this weird, twin simpatico where they can understand each other without ever really speaking, and I _think_ they have the start of their own, made-up language. We're doing our best to discourage it, but from everyone we've talked to, this is just one of the things that twins do."

He's such a dad. And it's such a great look on him. I honestly never thought much about it back then, but it turns out that fatherhood and Chandler Bing go hand-in-hand. His entire face comes alive as he talks about his kids, every move animated, and I half expect him to whip out his wallet and show me his family.

"So, the twins are…?"

"Ah, yes. Jack and Erica. They're almost three." He pauses, sighing wistfully. "Almost three," he says softly, mostly to himself.

"Well, it sound like you were busy for a little while."

He looks up and chuckles. "I guess you could say that."

"Where Mama?" William asks suddenly, his hands spread wide, his eyes trained on me.

I smile at him, shrugging. Aside from my nieces and nephews, I don't really interact with kids a whole lot, and I've never gotten around to having any of my own.

Fortunately, Chandler doesn't seem to notice my ineptitude and swings William around in his arms, holding him out in front of him. "I don't know, William."

"Liam," the little boy insists, and I try to hide my laughter behind my hand.

"So, what's with…"

"The William/Liam battle? The twins couldn't say William; it was completely beyond them. And at Christmas last year, Jack, out of the blue, called him 'Liam.' Erica immediately picked up on it, and now that's what they call him. We keep trying to break them of it, but those two are pretty stubborn."

"Da-dee," William says again, and Chandler immediately turns his attention back to his son.

"Yes. You're absolutely right. We were looking for Mama." He lifts the baby over his head, slowly moving him back and forth. "Tell me if you see her, buddy." He makes little "booping" noises as he moves William, pretending he's a radar, which seems to be the best game in the world judging by his giggles. It's this sort of moment that makes me understand why so many women go after married, family men. There's something unbelievably arousing about watching Chandler like this, so focused on his child, so dedicated and attentive that feels like it could make me ovulate.

Suddenly, Willam's face lights up and his entire body starts to wiggle, almost kicking his father in the face. "Mama! Mama Mama Mama!"

"Well, I guess you found her," he says, dropping William back to his hip, turning to greet who I'm assuming is his wife, at least if the ring on his finger is any indication. "Hey, hon. Everything okay?"

"Yep," she answers, stroller coming into view. "Your daughter is disgusting, but everything's fine."

He cringes and my eyes widen in shock when I see his wife. Monica, his neighbor across the hall.

Too-gorgeous-to-be-real Monica.

The Monica he went to for advice, even when it came to sex.

And probably the Monica he went to when he found out that I'd cheated on him.

I shouldn't be so stunned, but I never would have seen this one coming.

"Look who we ran into," he says, gesturing to me, and I wave weakly. Monica smiles at me politely, no recognition in her eyes.

"I'm sorry; have we met?"

"Honey, it's Kathy."

She still looks confused. "Kathy?"

I can't even bring myself to be offended by that; I didn't really spend much time with her back then, nor did I make the effort. When the girls that live across the hall from your boyfriend look like models, even when they hung around in their normal, boring, grungy clothes, it's intimidating as hell, and it was hard to make myself want to be around that.

"Yeah, Kathy. I used to date her, remember?"

A look of understanding suddenly breaks over her face. "Ohhhh. Oh, yeah. Sorry about that. How are you?"

"Oh, I'm fine." She's still intimidating, even without trying, and I swear the woman has gotten more attractive over the years. It's ridiculous. I tuck my hair behind my ear and cross my arms across my chest, suddenly very self-conscious. "Chandler's been telling me about your kids."

She smiles brightly at that, and I could smack myself—_this_ is who William reminded me of when he smiled. The grin is exactly the same. "Well, I guess you've met William. This is Jack and Erica," she tells me, pointing at the stroller. The twins look up at me at the same time and chorus, "Hi."

I can't help the laugh that bubbles out of me. "Oh, my God, they're so beautiful. They're all so beautiful." They don't look much like their parents except around the eyes, but genetics are a funny thing. If I'm not mistaken, Chandler's mother is blonde, so that might explain it.

Somehow, her smile grows wider. "Thank you."

William's arms shoot out. "Mama."

She turns her attention to her son, a look of complete and utter adoration passing over her face. "Yes, stinky, I missed you, too." She lifts him into her arms and for a few moments I'm completely stunned by her engagement ring—sparkling diamond and brilliant sapphires on what is probably a platinum band. Gorgeous.

Everything about this family in front of me is gorgeous, and almost disgustingly perfect. Seeing Chandler stand next to Monica like that makes so much sense all of a sudden. It fits.

It's hard to realize that this perfect picture in front of is something I almost had a shot at. Maybe I could have had this amazing life with this amazing guy.

But…I don't know. Looking at the two of them makes me realize that I never would have worked with Chandler, at least not in the long run. Whatever it is they have, however long ago it started, would have happened no matter what. It might be overly sentimental, but they just seem so right together, like two pieces of a puzzle.

My heart aches, and not in an entirely bad way.

Yes, I'm a little jealous of what they have together, but it gives me hope, too. Hope that my perfect other is out there for me, and maybe in a place I'd least expect it.

Monica's hand slides through Chandler's arm and shifts just a little closer to him. "I'm sorry—we must be keeping you."

"Oh, no, it's—" I pause for a moment at her look; it's not chilly or even mean, but it's definitely pointed, telling me to move along. I can see just the tiniest bit of resentment in her eyes, though I don't know if it's because I was so horrible to him, or if it's just because I ever dated him, period. The message is completely clear, though—_back off_. "Actually, you know what? You're right. I have some stuff I need to do so…but it was great to see you two."

"It was good to see you, too, Kathy," Chandler answers, his smile genuine, and Monica nods, her own smile not unkind.

"Congratulations on everything," I tell them, taking a few steps in reverse before turning away, moving a few feet through the vestibule before I have to pause and sneak another look at them again. Chandler already has Erica out of the stroller, kissing her cheek before he tucks her against his side. Monica stands up on tiptoes and says something that brings a smile to his face, and he leans down to kiss her, both of their eyes closing as they revel in the moment, and I'm struck once again by just how right it is.

So perfect and very right.

I turn around with a sigh, walking through the glass doors.

Damn it.

*A/N…It's interesting to try to write Kathy because she's such a non-entity to me that I never think about her, but I liked the idea of her running into the Bings at some point. Also, this was supposed to be a new chapter of TWWF, but as I was writing it, I realized it was probably going to take some time to write it and get it the way I want it. So, maybe Monday.


End file.
